Things I'll Never Say
by ILuvSnuffles805
Summary: "There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wished she could share, but would never be able to. But maybe here, in the silence of the darkened bedroom, she finally could..." (A fluffy-yet-angsty Mary/John Oneshot. Contains major HLV spoilers.)


_Disclaimer: I don't own "Sherlock", or any of its characters._

_SPOILERS__ FOR HIS LAST VOW_

_Note: This story takes place sometime during the month between "The Sign of Three" and "His Last Vow"_

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_**Things I'll Never Say**_

The pale face of the glowing moon peeked from behind the sheer blue curtains, its light spilling out over the small bedroom within. The room was completely silent, save the soft, rhythmic breathing of the man who lay curled beneath the covers of the king-sized bed. His wife lay beside him, wide awake and propped up on her pillows, listening intently to his every breath. Mary gazed down at her husband's face, watching as the moon's cool glow bathed it with light. A small smile came to her lips, and a gentle warmth seemed to wash over her at the sight. Though she would never admit it to him, Mary loved watching John sleep.

Sleepless nights like this were common for her – they always had been, for as long as she could remember… even back before the times she no longer _wanted _to remember. It was a nightly challenge to find something to slow her racing mind enough to welcome sleep. Sometimes she would read, or make some tea, or even just sit by the window, staring up at the stars. But her favorite thing was to watch John as he slept – there was something oddly comforting about it – the warmth of his body beside hers; the sound of his deep, even breaths; the peaceful calm on his moonlit face…

Of course, it wasn't always so peaceful. There were bad nights too – nights when John's brow creased as though in pain, his mouth clenched, his body stirring slightly as he slept. It pained Mary immensely to see him like that, and to be powerless to help him. There were less of those nights now, something for which she was extremely grateful. Ever since Sherlock had walked back into her husband's life, it seemed as though the demons of his past had finally been put back to rest – for the most part. They still let themselves be known from time to time, as demons so often did.

Thankfully, tonight was not one of those nights. John's face was calm, relaxed. Happy, even. Mary smiled to herself, wondering what he could be dreaming of. Crime solving? Sherlock? _Me?_ She shook her head, marveling as the idea crossed her mind. It was almost impossible to believe – she never could have imagined that anyone would ever dream of her, or love her, or marry her… Yet here she was. And here _he _was. It almost felt too good to be true.

"This was never supposed to happen, you know." She whispered softly, her eyes never leaving John's face. "None of it. This. Us. _You_."

Suddenly realizing that she had voiced this thought aloud, Mary fell silent, watching her husband's face for a reaction to her words. Nothing. He slept on in peace, completely unaware that she had spoken to him. The woman hesitated, wondering whether or not to continue. It was incredibly silly, she knew. The words had simply begun spilling from her lips without warning. But there was something oddly freeing, cathartic, almost, about saying them aloud. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wished she could share, but would never be able to.

_But maybe…_ She bit her lip uncertainly as the thought came to her mind. Maybe here, in the silence of the darkened bedroom, she finally _could. _Her eyes closed as a slow, deep breath escaped her lips.

"I had it all planned out when I came here." Mary continued finally, her whisper so soft that John would have struggled to hear it, were he awake. "All I wanted was a quiet, simple life. _Alone_." She paused, shaking her head slowly. "It's safer that way… _Easier_." Her shoulders shrugged slightly.

"I hurt people, John. In more ways than one... It's what I do. That's how it's always been for me…" Mary paused, trying to fight back the sudden wave of emotion that began to well up inside her chest. "I have lost everyone close to me, everyone I've ever loved… and it's all my fault." She said simply, blinking back the stinging in the corners of her eyes. "I promised myself I'd never let that happen again, never let anyone get too close… And I was doing a bloody good job of it, I'll have you know." She tried to smile. "Then you came in and ruined everything."

Mary paused for a moment, gingerly reaching out a hand toward her sleeping husband. She brushed a few stray strands of hair off his forehead, caressing the side of his face gently as she did so. "The moment I saw you, I knew. I could see it in your face." Her whispered words broke through the silence once more. Her lips curled into a smile, fondly remembering the clinic secretary's excited urging to go take a look at the 'cute new doctor'. She'd played along, of course, though she had no real interest. But everything changed the moment she set her eyes on him.

"Nancy was right, of course… You are quite fit." Mary's smile widened as she spoke. "But it was more than that… It was in your eyes, plain as day. I knew you were just like me…" _That longing for adventure, for danger. An exciting past, but a frightening one. One you can't seem to run from. And some days, you aren't even sure whether you want to… _Mary, shook her head, chasing the thought from her mind as she did so.

"Did you see it in me, too?" She leaned closer to him this time, keeping her voice at the lowest whisper she could manage. "You must've… You just didn't realize it." _Of course you didn't… If you did, you wouldn't be here right now, would you? Neither of us would be…_

She felt the wave returning then, ready to crash over her at any moment. It was harder to hold back this time, and a pair of warm, salty tears broke free, drawing twin trails down her flushed cheeks. "The things I've done, John…" Mary's voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "You'd hate me if you knew. I know you would…" She choked back a heavy sob and turned away then, unable to go on.

_You're such a good man. The best I've ever known._ She thought desperately. _But I'm not. I'm bad, John. So bad. I'm trying so hard, but I can never be good. Not really. Not after everything I've done…_

There were some days when she felt so disgusted with herself, looking back on all the lives she'd taken, the people she'd hurt and destroyed. And there were some when she missed it. _Truly_ missed it – that indescribable rush of adrenaline and feeling of power that comes with ending a life. It was like a drug, almost. A thrilling high that could only be achieved one way…

_Oh God,_ w_hat's wrong with me?_ She asked herself for what felt like the millionth time. After all these years, she was still searching for an answer. Sometimes she wished there was a way to erase it all – some magic button or flick of a switch that would give her a second chance. A way to go back, and start over. Live a good life. Be the type of woman who truly deserved to be the wife of John Watson.

But then, she wouldn't _be _the wife of John Watson if she did, would she? There would be no Mary Watson, or Mary Morstan, for that matter. She would be far away, with a different name. A different life. She wouldn't be laying there, in this room, in this bed, beside this man who somehow, impossibly, had fallen in love with her.

No, she couldn't change her past. And she wouldn't, she realized, even if she could. But she _could_ change her future. She could keep trying. She could keep being normal. She could keep being _good_. For _him_.

"I never thought I'd be able to move on." She said at last, her voice steadier than before. "Never dreamed I could have a normal life… And here I am." Mary smiled softly through her tears. "You saved me, John. And I would give anything to be able to tell you that. _Really_ tell you that."

The woman closed her eyes for a few moments, listening once more to John's soft, calming breaths. Mary felt a bit of the immense weight of her guilt begin to slip from her shoulders. She had finally spoken them aloud – all the things she'd never say. _Couldn't _say. Not until now. And perhaps one day, years from now, she'd say them again, when John could truly hear her. But for now, this was enough. It had to be. There was just one more thing she had to tell him, one last promise she had to make.

Mary sighed softly, an uneasy feeling suddenly creeping up on her. "You saved me." She repeated. "In so many ways…" For a moment, she thought back to Sherlock's speech at their wedding. "That's what you do, isn't it? I hurt people. You save them. You keep them safe. But that's the thing, John. I'm _not _safe. Neither of us are. Not yet…" Unlike John, Mary's demons could not be tucked away so easily. "There's just one more thing I have to do… Then this will all be over for good." She promised him. "One more loose end." _One more kill… _

Charles Augustus Magnussen. As long as that man walked this earth, she could never be free. Of that, she was certain. The message at the wedding had been a warning, it had to be. Just a few simple words from that man's lips, and she would lose everything, just like before. _I won't let him_. Mary told herself firmly. _He will never hurt me, or anyone else, ever again_. She would make sure of it. Personally.

"I've got to be bad, just one more time. Then we'll have nothing more to worry about." She assured him. "And we can live our lives in peace, just the two of us. _Three _of us." She amended, subconsciously placing a hand on her abdomen. _Four of us? Does Sherlock count? _Mary had to hold back a laugh at the thought.

She leaned forward then, putting her lips so close to John's ear that they almost grazed against it as she whispered furtively to him. "I've never done a single thing to deserve a man like you. But you are _mine_, John Watson. And I will never let anyone take you from me."

John stirred then, just slightly, turning his head toward her with a small groan. For a moment, Mary feared she had woken him, but he said nothing, and his eyes remained closed, just as before. His wife brushed her lips gently against his temple as John's head slumped back against the pillow yet again. "Thanks for listening." She whispered.

Mary fell back into silence then, studying John's sleeping face for a few more minutes before leaning back against her pillow once more. She closed her eyes, her mind brimming with thoughts of John, and the baby, and the promise of the new life that still lay ahead. Before long, sleep overtook her, and these happy thoughts gave way to happy dreams that she would not recall in the morning.

And as they lay beside each other, bathed in the sun's warm glow, she would ask John what he dreamt of as well.

"Of you." He'd reply with that soft smile she loved so much.

And that would be good enough for her.

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_AN: Hopefully that wasn't awful! I would love some feedback/reviews! I'm sure this type of fic isn't as popular, but if a decent number of people read it/enjoy it, I may write a few "companion" oneshots that feature a similar theme (having a "conversation" with someone without them actually being able to hear it). I have a few ideas in mind for fics along this line between different pairs of characters in the series. _

_And if anyone is curious, this fic was somewhat inspired by the song "If These Walls Could Talk" by Hotspur. Look it up, great song! :)_

_Anyway, hope you enjoyed!_


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